Last night was the first night of Passover, and therefore we had the first of two Passover seders.

I got to thinking about my most unusual Passover seder, which happened four years ago.

During my last year of law school in Virginia, a couple of weeks after spring break, I started to feel sick. I developed a fever, and then I got a sore throat. My throat got worse until it was incredibly painful for me to swallow. I felt miserable. I could barely sleep. After a few days, I finally went to the doctor, and after doing some tests, he told me I had mono.

I called my parents to tell them. Within a day, my mom decided she was going to drive the seven hours from northern New Jersey down to Charlottesville, Virginia to take care of me. She reserved a suite for us at the local Marriott Residence Inn, where she could watch over me for a few days — a bedroom for me, a small living room with a couch for her to sleep on, a kitchenette with a small table.

She arrived at the Marriott in the early evening. I packed some things and drove over to meet her there.

It happened to be the first night of Passover. So she’d brought a seder with her.

She brought a tablecloth for the table. She brought matzoh. She brought some of the food intended for the big seder back home: brisket, and matzoh ball soup, and vegetables, and potato kugel, and one or two other side dishes. She brought macaroons. She brought two Haggadahs. I think she brought a seder plate, with the appropriate items stored in little bags or containers. She brought ginger ale, which I drank instead of wine.

We basically just went through the motions; it was about 30 percent religious observance, and 70 percent an excuse for me to eat well.

It was the best seder I’ve ever had, and it’s one of the many reasons I love my mom so much.
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